Coq au vin
by psykii
Summary: This story is set in the past, prior Hannibal meeting all of the characters of Season 1. I had been tossing this idea about my head for a while before deciding I would actually write it. I am truly sorry the only known character is Dr. Lecter! This is the first FanFiction I have written in 7 years, so I'm a little rusty but I hope you still enjoy it. Thank you for reading!
1. Scentphony

The Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in Baltimore was encompassed with the lilting of an unknown composer's rendition of Bach's Goldberg Variations. Sitting amongst the spectators was Doctor Hannibal Lecter. His head turning ever so slightly as the tune changed, eyes closed, enveloped in the classic as each note alighted upon his eardrums. His demeanor appeared at ease and to anyone around him it would seem that he was ensnared in the moment. This was entirely untrue. Although enjoying the music very much, he had another thing on his mind- Dinner. The music stopped and a standing ovation was in order as all of the symphonists turned toward the audience and bowed. The clapping was quickly replaced by the chattering of music connoisseurs; all discussing the separate pieces in detail and praising each individual melodist's representation.

Doctor Lecter meandered to and fro in search of no one in particular, smiling meekly at any whose eyes met his own. The collective roar of the crowd dulled his hearing after honing the extent of his auditory perception on the music. His now muted ears only enhanced his abnormally dominant sense- Smell. Weaving about the mass of bodies littering the grand atrium, he smelled pungent colognes layered atop sickeningly sweet perfumes. He could smell the napes of many necks precipitating sweat due to their lack of sufficient ventilation. Hairsprays, crèmes, cotton fibers, minty breath, and the slightly mildewed air that swirled throughout the building all bound to his olfactory receptors.

The doctor made his way to the middle of the crowd, all the while maintaining a reasonable distance from the many haughtily dressed bodies. Inhaling deeply, he suddenly stopped short. Amongst the multitude of clashing odors, he detected a hint of something fresh. Like the crisp, wintry air outside had fused with freshly squeezed lemon, combined with sweet overtures. He stood silently for a while, lost in the scent, before being jerked into awareness as a woman bumped his arm. Her mouth was open and head thrown back in laughter as she stumbled behind a man whose hand was cupped around her wrist. The man in front of her turned to look back at the woman as they went; he also wore an expression of boisterous merriment.

_How rude_, Hannibal thought, brow furrowed. A slight panic overcame him upon realizing the delectable scent which stopped him here had nearly vanished. He pressed forward, nose upturned in search of which direction to go.

"Excuse me, pardon me," he muttered to those he wove around. The scent became stronger the further he went and the crowd became more scattered. He closed his eyes and again inhaled deeply, at last revealing the source of this tantalizing odor. He opened his eyes to see the back of a tall, tawny-haired woman pulling a black pea coat over her shoulders. Lean, taught muscle and healthy-looking. She stepped forward and through the doors, into the frigid night. The coat draped over Hannibal's right forearm was opened and fixed upon his figure as he walked after her. With this, Doctor Lecter had decided upon his primary objective for the evening.

Bracing himself to the cold, Hannibal followed after the woman. Outside, the air was biting and still, the sounds of conversation inside muffled as the door closed behind him. He peered to either side of the lot. Several people were making their way, discussing where they thought they had parked. To his left he heard the light click of heels against the pavement and saw the outline of a lone woman making her way toward the rows of cars, that unique perfume trailing in her wake.  
Doctor Lecter buttoned his coat and turned in her direction. He watched as she slowed her pace, reaching into her purse and pulling out a key ring. A black car's headlights flared orange and the click of the doors unlatching echoed off the asphalt. Hannibal continued past her, four cars to her right. Walking into the lane, he made his way behind her and her car as she neared it. He made note of the license plate number in passing and hurriedly started to his Bentley the next lane over. The woman started her engine and backed out slowly as Hannibal arrived at his vehicle and did the same. The hunt was finally beginning.

Doctor Lecter drove in silence as he followed his prey. The city lights dimmed as the area became less populated. The car ahead of him signaled right and turned down a road with a small gas station at the corner.

_Must need to fuel her car,_ He thought.  
_This may be a welcome opportunity._ The woman's car, however, did not approach the fuel pumps, but pulled to the side of the small building and parked under the cover of an ornamental pear tree.

_Perhaps not,_ Hannibal mused. He pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the road and turned off his engine. Far enough away so as not be conspicuous but close enough to observe. He scanned the storefront and lot, looking for any surveillance cameras. The only one he could see was through the glass door and pointed at the registers inside.  
All was situated perfectly for his unraveling plot.

He was going to steal the woman away upon her return to the car, but she did not immediately vacate the vehicle. He watched the shadowed outline of her figure. It was very dim, and where she sat below the shady tree, the light was even poorer. He could vaguely see an arm extend toward the car's ceiling, presumably to turn on the light, but no light came. Typically, Doctor Lecter was excellent in predicting the motive of other beings. His understanding of human nature was overly adequate, which aided very much in efficiently stalking and killing his victims. The experience he was having now was not so understood. Guesses as to what precisely her purpose was for coming here and acting thus circled through his mind, though he quickly deemed this as overanalyzing the situation. The seasoned therapist knew better than to jump to any conclusions. He decided to observe patiently until his moment came.

Turning her head toward the gas station and then to the road, Dr. Lecter watched as she noticed the faint beam of headlights coming forward. Her gaze followed it as it pulled in and parked in a space directly beneath the flickering blue light of the awning. A man stepped out and briskly swept his hands down the cheap brown jacket he was wearing. The woman's face stayed fixed on him. Turning, the man walked up the oil-stained pavement and into the dingy store. The woman finally opened her car door and got out. She doubled down and the hood of her car popped up.__

Car trouble? He thought.  
She stood up, closed the door, and walked to the front of the car.

Now was his chance.

He quietly stepped onto the street, careful not to make any sound as he pressed the driver's door closed. The chemical stench of gasoline wafted toward him. His prey was hidden behind the propped hood as he edged forward.

Chimes on the gas station's doorbell sounded suddenly as the man in the brown coat exited. Hannibal quickly went slinking behind the tree nearest him. No need to be seen by anyone other than his intended prey.

"Excuse me, sir?" A light voice queried.  
Lecter froze, turning parallel the tree, hoping the shadows and foliage being used as coverage had not betrayed him. The woman stepped toward the man in the brown coat.  
"Ma'am?" The man asked quizzically. She walked forward somewhat hesitantly, into the awning's light.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you, but I seem to be having some difficulty getting my car started. I think the battery is dead."

"Oh! Damsel in distress, eh?" The man said rudely. "I can help you out if you're needin' it." His back-woods Virginian twang offered. The woman laughed slightly, "That would be wonderful, thank you."

"That your car?" He bobbed his head in the direction her car was parked.

"Yes, I think I may just need a jump start, I have some cables in my trunk."

"Alright, then little lady, I can fix you up right quick. Let's go ahead and get her hooked up, then I'll pull my car over and get ya chargin'"

"Oh, good! Thank you so much, sir. Here," She lifted her arm up and began pacing back toward her car, the man following her.

She popped the trunk and handed him the cables, "These'll do fine." He smiled.

Hannibal watched them from his hiding place a mere nine feet away. He was almost entirely certain that her car was in perfect working order and she did not need a jump-start.

"Let's see here…" The brown-coated man said gravelly as he leaned under the hood and out of sight. The woman stepped behind him, now also out of Hannibal's line of vision.

There was the sound of metallic tinkering and then was the sound of an abrupt thud, followed by a rough gasp and then silence.

A hand reached up and grasped the hood, pushing it closed.  
The tawny-haired woman stood alone, fixing a few misplaced hairs with her left hand. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she took a few steps backwards, peering down before her.  
She leaned over, hoisting the limp form of the man off the ground. She dragged him to the trunk and looked around suspiciously before shoving him in and pulling a roll of ducting tape from her pocket. She proceeded to wrap the man's limbs tightly and pushed the trunk door down before walking to the driver's side. Stopping before opening the door, she sighed.  
As she sighed a smirk spread across her lips, her eyes were closed and what appeared to be a wave of contentedness swept over her before she climbed into the driver's side and started the car.

Hannibal stood there, not unsurprised but not taken aback either.

_How intriguing._ He thought bemusedly.

He moved slyly as the woman's car pulled out of the lot and back to the road heading into Baltimore. He had an odd feeling after witnessing what had just transpired before him. The natural pecking order was completely invalid when it came to humans and he couldn't help but find that immensely amusing.

Doctor Lecter grinned thoughtfully and walked toward his parked car.  
Despite being unable to follow through with a kill, something far more interesting had occurred.  
He stored her license plate number, car make and model and physical appearance away in his mind for later use.

He hoped to see her again someday soon.


	2. New Patient

Hannibal sat quietly whilst listening to a patient's monotone voice drone on about his painfully uneventful week. The man, head of a manufacturing company, suffered from a severe case of emotional detachment. He was unable to experience any feelings due to his long-term depression and was virtually catatonic prior referral to Dr. Lecter's services.  
The psychiatrist's notice in all that is atypical made him quite interested in this particular case. Although having seen many other patients with this somewhat common abnormality, this case was the severest he has had the pleasure of analyzing.

Once the hour with the Anhedonia sufferer had ended, Hannibal had a fifteen-minute interval before his next appointment. A new patient was to come in for a session at 3:30 p.m. and he sorely hoped this individual was not a waste of his time.

For the few moments he had without any obligation he worked on a sketch he started earlier that day.

Opposing the style he typically gravitated towards- tasteful nudes, anatomically accurate to the point of annoyance, although still a pristinely accurate depiction of the scene- the figure being etched onto the white sheet was clothed completely.  
It depicted the back of a woman walking into the night.  
The same woman Doctor Lecter had spent quite some time thinking about since the night he witnessed her criminal actions some two weeks ago.

He had not gotten particularly far in his quest to find and observe her further. Despite the events that transpired that evening being unconventional and unexpected he saw little to no reason as to why he would invest in doing so.

Interested, he was indeed, but there was no rational outcome to explain why he would need to stalk someone who posed as no immediate threat.  
This woman was not one of the _vulgus_ he was forced to live amongst and he had no intention of killing her unless their territories crossed and his style of life was compromised.

She had been completely unaware of his presence.  
Despite the well-executed attack and cautionary actions, the fact that he had been able to get so close without her noticing was enough to deem her reckless.

Glancing at the clock he realized the fifteen-minute mark was approaching.  
He picked up the finished drawing and slid it into a drawer, along with his eraser and pencil.  
Standing, he re-buttoned his grey and crimson suit jacket and turned off the desk lamp.

He walked to the door of his waiting room to see if his new patient had arrived.

In the waiting room sat a woman clad in a sheer periwinkle top and black skirt, legs crossed. Light hair covered her face as she read an opened book perching on her right knee.

"Miss Katherine LeMieux?"

She looked up, tucking the long fringe of hair behind her ear as her eyes latched onto Hannibal's.

A small shocked and excited leap surged through his chest upon realizing this new patient was the woman he had followed after the Symphony.

"Yes," she closed her book and put it into the purse at her side,

"I presume you are Doctor Lecter? Very nice to meet you," she stood and stepped toward him, reaching her left hand out to shake his.

A skeptical look flashed through his eyes, mind working hastily, but his face only showed a polite, almost warm, smile.

"Very nice to meet you as well, Miss LeMieux." They shook hands.

His smile widened as he began to fully grasp what this encounter might entail.

"Please, come in."

Doctor Lecter sat across from Miss LeMieux in his lavish counseling room. His mind quickly jumped from one line of thought to another, never speaking before first thinking of his answers and queries.

"What brings you to my services, Miss LeMieux- or may I call you Katherine?"

"Katherine is perfectly fine. If I'm going to be spending any amount of time with you I would certainly prefer a more casual milieu."

"Good," He smiled, "may I ask where it is you are from?"

She laughed lightly; "I'm from here, doctor, as much as anyone else is."

"I cannot help but notice a faint accent when you speak; that, coupled with your surname."

"I was born in Marseille and lived there until I was eleven. My mother and I moved to Annapolis and I gained citizenship soon after."

"You've done well at masking it, if I may say so."

"Your accent is a little more noticeable. European?"

Hannibal smiled with a short half-laugh. "Yes, I moved around Europe quite a bit before settling in the United States. My accent is a potpourri at best."

She grinned at his comment before a more serious look crossed her face, light eyes grazing him dubiously. "Despite the pleasantries, doctor, shouldn't we be discussing my reasons for coming to you today?"

"Surely," he said, inclining his head and gently flourishing an opened hand in her direction. "What seems to be the dilemma?"

"It's a complicated matter, to say the least of it. My, ah," she chuckled, "'general well-being' seems to be compromised."

"Very pressing, indeed, Katherine. How has your well-being been compromised?"

"Well," her eyes downturned, "a few weeks ago I was followed by someone." She glanced back up and met his eyes. Despite her serious demeanor, something about her expression seemed to be playfully goading him.

"Is that so?" Hannibal raised his brow not quite genuinely, mimicking her feigned seriousness. "Do you know by whom?"

"Not at first, no. But it wasn't difficult for me to find out." Her mouth turned up in a full smile. "You _are_ one of the best in your field, easily recognized once a little effort was put in."  
Hannibal, despite being put into a position of vulnerability, stayed collected and logical- One of his many useful attributes.

"I didn't think it was by chance that you should be in my office today."

"No, not chance in the slightest." She retorted.

"You were aware of my presence that night, then. At what point did you notice?"

"The moment you walked out the door after me."

"Yet you still continued with your actions?"

"I thought if I was being stalked I might as well leave an impression on the pursuer."

"Why come here today, then? To confront me?"

"No." she replied lightly. "If I were going to confront you I would have done so in an entirely different way." She paused with a trivial look on her face, "I planned to do so, actually, but was interrupted by a third party, much in the manner you were interrupted by my actions after leaving the Symphony Hall."

Doctor Lecter unfolded his legs and leaned forward, elbows resting on each knee.  
"And your intention now?"

"No intentions. Purely curiosity."


	3. Dinner Guest

"Beef Bourguignon atop toasted garlic sour dough," Hannibal said smoothly as he ladled the rich, meat and vegetable broth over a slice of bread in front of his dinner guest. "Paired with a Volnay Pinot Noir." He continued, pouring the deep purple liquid into her glass.

"It looks delicious," said Katherine.

After officially meeting Miss LeMieux in his office, he had invited her to dinner.

"Curiosity?" Hannibal had asked her that day, curious himself as to what precisely she meant.

"It's quite uncommon to find someone-" she paused, trying to find the right words to describe it, "who does whatever it is that you do."

"Why only say 'I'?"

"Because, I am not so sure of exactlywhat it is you are doing."

Hannibal blinked slowly, coupled with the twinge of a smile pulling up the right side of his lips.

"You should let me cook for you. We can talk further over dinner. My next appointment is due anytime now. That would give us the chance to converse further."

"Dinner?" Katherine said somewhat bemusedly.

"I insist."

The Doctor wiped a few small droplets of wine from the edge of the glass carafe, placing it down in the center of the table and walking to his plate across from Katherine. He spooned himself a serving of the stew before sitting down.

"I hope it lives up to the standards set by your homeland."

Katherine laughed fairly girlishly. "This looks far more extravagant than when I ate it in France."

"All the same, I hope I did the dish justice."

He paused before eating, watching as Katherine brought a bite to her lips.  
She mumbled her delight and grinned as she chewed it.  
He smiled back at her and took a bite himself.  
Katherine put her utensils down and reached for the glass of wine, swishing the liquid around under her nose before sipping it.

"Do you cook often?" she queried.

Hannibal swallowed his bite, "Always. I prepare and cook everything I eat. I am very conscientious about what I put into my body."

She nodded, replacing her glass on the table.

"So, Katherine," he started, changing the direction of the conversation, "despite the fear of overstepping my boundaries, I must ask- what it is you did with that man at the gas station?"

Miss LeMieux silently took a bite of the bourguignon, eyes turned downward, seemingly pondering.

"Do you really have to ask?"

"No." he sipped his glass of Pinot Noir. He was very curious as to what her motive behind killing was. What she was doing with the bodies. Questions not easy to approach delicately.

Katherine chewed the remaining mouthful of rich stew, a look of curiosity spreading over her face as her jaws worked it out.

"_Beef _Bourguignon, you said?" she queried pointedly once swallowing. Returning to the original subject of the meal Hannibal had so subtly averted.

His fork paused just above his pasta plate. "Yes."

"Mmm," she hummed in somewhat of a stated manner.

His eyes lingered on her as she took another bite.

After they finished the main course, the host cleared the table and brought out dessert.

"I hope you don't mind," Hannibal said as he positioned two chilled bowls on the place settings, "something simple for dessert." He served up a scoop of a light purple substance and proceeded to drizzle thick cream onto the sweet, frozen ball.  
"Sorbet mûres et crème." He finished as he served himself some.

"Blackberry sorbet," crooned Katherine, "a perfect light finish to such a robust dish." She took a small bite and puckered her lips slightly, eyes closed.

"I am glad you agree," Hannibal smiled, also sampling the cold, semi-sweet dessert.

"Thank you for having me over, Doctor Lecter, this is all superb."

"Please, call me Hannibal, and it's my pleasure."

"Very well," she replied, "I suppose you only say that because our relationship is not professional in nature."

"Not at all, the pretenses under which you came into contact with me were… unique, to say the least. I wouldn't consider you a patient, would you?"

"No. What would _you_ consider me?"

"A person of interest." He said simply.

Katherine smiled, sipping again at her wine. "It is all _entirely_ unconventional." She laughed, "I can't help but find this somewhat amusing."

Hannibal inclined his head in minor agreement, "I suppose you could say that. Are you not concerned by my knowledge of you?"

"Not entirely. I was, of course, in the beginning, but upon my realization that we are rather like-minded, those feelings dissipated."

"Even after inviting you here?"

"Your invitation was obviously an attempt in probing further. That, or you wanted to kill me."

Hannibal raised his brows. "Why not suspect the latter?"

"As I stated in your office, it wasn't hard to look into you. I did a bit of research and it seems that your professional curiosity is a more significant drive than your interest in… _other things_." She replied. "My own curiosity is much the same, although I wonder if I was mistaken? What _was_ your intent upon inviting me here?"

"To keep friends close, and enemies closer," the Doctor said light-heartedly as he lifted his wine glass.  
Katherine cocked her head skeptically before raising her cup as well.  
The two laughed, glasses clinking in a toast of the new acquaintanceship.  
As they sipped simultaneously, cynical thoughts crossed either killer's minds, both disbelieving- hesitant to trust the other.

As they ate the slowly melting sorbet, the conversation turned to lighter things. Before long the two had made their way casually into the kitchen. LeMieux insisted upon helping Lecter clean.

More of the decadent wine was poured and sleeves were rolled to sit above elbows as they delved into the sullied tableware.

They were mostly silent as they washed and dried. Hannibal was tediously clean; all of his meals mostly prepared prior the arrival of his guests. This meant there was only the excess frivolity of Hannibal's intricate presentations and the dishes used to eat off of left to sanitize.

As the two shuffled about in such close quarters it was difficult to avoid noticing attempts at sly glances.

Katherine's hazel green irises jotted over, watching Doctor Lecter as he rinsed off pans. In return, Hannibal's dark eyes shifted on her once her gaze again focused on the dishes he handed to her to dry.  
She was tall, her head no more than a foot below his own, and fit, as he had noticed at the symphony. She wore a loose, but well tailored, silken black top and deep green fitted skirt. Her grey sweater pulled back over her pale, lean forearms.

Hannibal looked down at the dish in front of him as she looked up, hand out- expectantly awaiting the next thing to dry.

He handed her the dripping plate and her gaze lingered, smiling.  
She proceeded to dry the dish and flirtatiously said,  
"You are quite handsome, Doctor."

Hannibal turned to her, "I could say much the same to you," and smiled back.

Katherine placed the dish aside and angled herself at him- hand on hip.  
"I find myself increasingly more interested in you."

"I should hope so." He said flirtatiously in return.

"Here," He reached for the towel in her hands. She handed it to him and he dried the last bowl, narrowly avoiding her as he reached to place it with the rest of the cleaned dishes.

"It seems we have finished." He noted, drying his hands before rolling the sleeves of his grey shirt back down and re-buttoning the cuffs.

Katherine looked at the sink, "Yes, it appears we have."

"More wine?" he offered, raising the carafe.

"Please,"  
"Now that we both have knowledge of one another's indiscretions, we should come to a unanimous agreement on the subject." Hannibal commented.

Katherine's brow raised, "Doctor-" she stopped- correcting herself,  
"Hannibal. I have no intention to blackmail you, nor will I tell anyone of what I saw you do."

The doctor was silent.

"So long," Katherine started again, "as I keep your secret, can I trust you to keep mine?"  
She stepped toward him, head cocked to the side, searching for his answer.

"Your secret is safe with me, Katherine. It seems that would be the only beneficial way to continue on like this."

"I agree," she stepped further, closing the gap between them and sliding her forefinger across his crimson paisley tie. She looked up at him, eyes slack.

Hannibal could tell that she was used to obtaining what she wanted with little work. Her body language had been relaxed the entire evening but shifted into a more seductive air as she closed in on him.

He stood with his hands at either side, straightening his back so their faces weren't so close, but at the same time altered his weight onto one leg- leaning further into the mere five inches they were from one another.

"I see no point in killing you, Katherine," he said delicately. Her forefinger slipped behind his tie now, and her thumb caressed the embroidered silk print on the front.  
"I think the world is a better place with you in it."

"And I feel much the same about you," Hannibal felt her warm breath in his ear as she whispered this, standing on tiptoes.  
Her hand flattened onto his chest for support as she pressed forward.

He felt soft, slightly moist lips press onto his cheek momentarily and then felt her lean back, hand sliding down the length of his tie.

Before she had the chance to move away he grasped either of her arms, just below her shoulders and inclined his face toward her neck, breathing in deeply.

"You're perfume is delectable," Hannibal sighed, "Eau d'Hadrien, coupled with a vanilla body crème?" he inquired of her, stepping back.

Katherine's face was still slanted in an acquiesced position despite Hannibal being a foot away now. She cut her eyes over at him and grinned,  
"Yes," she straightened out and leaned her hip into the side of the marble countertop, folding her arms over her chest.

"How did you know?"

He smiled, explaining the discovery of his olfactory prowess.

"You continue to amaze me, Doctor." She unfolded her arms, pulling her sleeve back to gaze at the face of her silver watch's face. "It seems I may have overstayed my welcome in your lovely home, Hannibal."

"Not at all, but I understand it's growing late."

"Indeed."

"Let me retrieve your coat for you." Hannibal reached out, palm up, showing her the way to his closet.

Gentlemanly, he held her coat out as she slid her arms into the fabric.

"We must do this again soon," The Doctor stated definitely.

"I agree," Katherine replied with a smirk.

Lecter handed LeMieux her purse and she tucked it onto her shoulder with a, "Thank you," and they walked to the door.

"Until next time, then." Hannibal said, opening the door for her.

"Until then."


End file.
